Perch @perchingpath@eldritch.cafe

Gayfeather, colic-root, rattlesnake-master, blazing star,( devil's bite, Cahaba torch, prairie-pine,) I took your list to that fireworks store in Upland, gathered & checked off each rocket, then imagined how you'd stare at a forest fire (guilty? gleeful?) as I put them all back.

they are especially active during the triduum of Allhallowtide.

Wounded, I turn to my memories of maze-traversal for comfort, entire days passed in appreciation of the alluring mustiness corn gains at the sodden end of October. Later, having moved on to church labyrinths, I drift through a Levantine pilgrimage wholly blind to my surroundings.

I've pried open (& cleaned) seven of our eight household convectors for the first time since they were painted firmly shut by an unknown previous resident, and found two wilting plastic flowers and an ornamented chopstick. To complete the triangulation, the eighth should yield... a baguette of pale green glass missing a cheap ring?

Ghostly as in future-starved.
https://danieldejesuscello.bandcamp.com/track/this-is-my-house

Dreamt of a vast feast for four in an expensively secured hotel room, thirty-some divers dishes all gleaming the color of salmon roe. Outside, a dim hall of an antique store where I shifted stuffed mice to low, obscured shelves to facilitate their theft by future child visitors.

One thing you might do with a sator square is feed it to a cow.

Really into the cadence of this (inconveniently long) spell from The Long Lost Friend. You are coming under your hats, you are scattered!

Shedding my outermost skin all at once like a snake rather than gradually and imperceptibly like a coward.

Counting pelvic bridge reps in the whispered salival creak of a sclera-less ghost girl.

Jarringly whimsical guilt/stress dream in which the (real) pipe failure under my bathroom had been caused by the dense-packed abundance of overripe wild strawberries cached in the wall cavities by the assorted mammals (coatis, dwarf bears, etc.) I'd negligently allowed to roam the house.

The lightning that just severed our internet struck close enough for me to hear a small, directed snap before the general shaking crash, like a brattish cloud popping its bubblegum behind my left ear.

Assisted a game but aimless armored youth off the thoroughfare. (Turtles begin brigandined, shell-plate in egg-leather, then discard the leather as an outmoded encumbrance. Iconoclasts.)

"I felt I'd incurred a great debt at birth, and now I don't. I forget what happened in the interim."

The (arguably) first recorded jazz band losing their pianist to the 1918 Flu and their trombonist (temporarily) to a Great War draft is a handy chronoceptive reference point.

As a kid I assumed that dusty haunted house jazz was a 1950s recontextualization prompted by distance and decayed shellac, but no! that association was intended right from the first jass recordings. Rib cage percussion is a supracentennial institution.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MP9C5Mw2BCY

SORRY!